Pia
by lilyonce
Summary: One-shot. Before taking the inquisitor's responsibility, Trevelyan circle mage, Pia, attempts to dismiss Cullen from his advisor position.


I glance up from my list and pause before coming to my next demand. Its about the man across from me, and when I meet his eye, I catch the bob of his adam's apple and then the nervous shift of his weight from one foot to the other. I haven't liked him since we met and he knows something bad is coming his way.

"And this templar won't be my advisor," I say loudly. Louder than I have to as they've heard every other demand I've made in a lower voice, and I say it as firmly as I can too - all to assure them I won't give in on this. I swear to myself not to - but immediately Cassandra protests in Cullen's defense.

He has the experience and expertise we need in military matters. Our troops, mostly ex-templars and ex-seekers themselves, know and respect him. His reputation is solid and his morals are strong. She states these things but I don't care. I've heard it twice already and speak over her, "Just how many mage hunters do you need to keep your one inquisitor in line, Seeker?"

The others present, the diplomat Josephine, the bard Leliana, and the dwarf Varric are plainly uncomfortable, knowing exactly where an argument like this can lead, and if you couldn't feel it before, certainly now you can feel the heat of tension warming us on that cold mountain in the Frostbacks.

"That isn't what this is about." Cassandra places her hands on the wooden table and leans in toward me across it to flatten the accusation in my face. "And you know it," she adds. She addresses me like a petulant child and I want to ream her for it, but this really isn't about her and I don't want to lose focus, so I ignore her for the moment and fix my glare on Cullen.

Now stiff backed and controlled, he's determined to show no hint of nerves from a moment ago, but I'm determined to find a weakness in him again. I let the page I'm holding slip from my fingers and will power into my staff, brightening the candle lit room with a harsh white light. I hold it out in front of me and tilt the light at an angle to look him over good, hungry for every detail of his face, and see sweat on his upper lip. Its a flaw that gives him away and I'm pleased at it.

"I do?" I start, never taking my eyes from Cullen. "What I know is that it took two templars to imprison me when I spoke out against our mistreatment after Kirkwall. It took two templars to guard me in solitary. To shove a food tray under my door on alternating shifts. To take me from my cell to a bucket in the dungeons once a week for a quick washdown. To chain me to the wall. To beat me when my screams were heard by others in the tower."

I let that hang in the air for a moment then finish, "I know I don't need two of you here, and I certainly know that I don't want the the Knight-Captain at the center of Kirkwall's bullshit as my advisor."

"I am no longer a templar." Cullen speaks finally, quietly, flatly. He remains erect, his shoulders squared, hands locked behind his back, his chest out, silver armor sparkling like it'd just been scrubbed, his eyes unreadable, and I hate everything about him.

"No? Then what is that?" I gesture to the burgundy flap of his tabard hanging at his waist - to the flaming sword of the Order stitched in gold embroidery on his left side. "Not a templar? What should I call you then? Oppressor, mage hunter, kidnapper, torturer, murderer?"

"I'm here to close the Breach and nothing more. I just want to help," he insists in monotone. Does he really think that's it? That Kirkwall has no bearing on current matters? Or maybe he's just trying hard to minimize its impact, but I'm too caught up in the past and too full of anger to be conciliatory. I'm an important person now, and important people get what they want. I want him banished. So I press on.

"Tell me, just how many mages have you thrown to demons? Ripped all emotion from?" I levy this next one with all the ice in my veins, "Just how many children did you kill in Kirkwall's annulment?"

When he just stands there still and unresponsive, I want to knock him off balance with a fireball - put a dent in his stoicism and make him talk - but that might get me killed and I don't want to die before I've really made my point. Before I can say more though Cassandra interjects, "That's enough!"

She reiterates what she said earlier this morning. That the Inquisition is no longer primarily about mages and templars, that I need to get a grip on myself. The others agree and try to calm me, but I tell her she can find herself another inquisitor, someone else with a glowing green hand to shut the hole in the sky, if my demand isn't met.

"I escaped the plains of Ostwick only just with my life." I start the story I've re-told six or seven times now, not because they need to hear it again, but because it just spills out of me like water from an overflowing cup. "I was chased all over the Free Marches, and I've watched too many people I cared for die at the ends of templar swords to let anything go."

But this part they really need to listen to and I rap my staff on the wall next to me for emphasis. "I'm only taking this responsibility for the power, to do something good for mages like me, to keep them away from people like you, and _you_ need to come to terms with _that_."

I see Varric strum the side of his crossbow and Josephine's anxious face on my periphery. Cassandra pushes away from the table and Leliana walks around it to stand by her but Cullen does nothing and roll on to crescendo, "I don't care what happens to the world or anyone else in it. If we burn, you all burn with us, because at least everyone's equal when they're dead."

I grip my staff in both hands now ready for a fight. If one of them lifts a weapon or makes any move to restrain me, I'm poised to engulf the room in flames.


End file.
